The Commodore's Fateful Command'
(See R. L. Taylor, pp. 56-59, February 2009 Naval History)
Captain Lawrence B. Brennan, JAGC, U.S. Navy (Retired)
This article is an important and detailed account of the collision between the USS Wisconsin (BB-64) and the USS Eaton (DDE-510) from the destroyer's perspective. The harsh law of command at sea ended the career of the Eaton's commanding officer who was convicted and sentenced to a "loss of lineal numbers," a uniquely naval punishment at court-martial.
Mr. Taylor states that the root cause of the collision was the order by the embarked commodore, Captain Terrell H. W. Conner, to the Eaton's OOD. The article is sympathetic to the commanding officer but omits any discussion of a long-standing naval tradition, particularly applicable under these facts, that provides that a junior shall never receive greater punishment than a senior for the same incident.
Nearly two decades later, in the case of the fatal collision between the John F. Kennedy (CV-67) and the Belknap (CG-26), the OOD received no punishment, despite conviction, essentially because the Belknap's commanding officer had been acquitted. Subsequently, the CNO transmitted a personal message to all flag officers and officers in command addressing the judicial proceedings and responsibility of command as well as commenting on trial by military judge alone.
While it is far too late to resurrect the career of the Eaton's commanding officer, an inherent sense of justice and equity suggests that his conviction should be set aside even at this late date. Thanks to Mr. Taylor for sharing the horror of those events half a century ago, which every naval officer should memorize to ensure safety of life at sea.
Perfect in Every Respect'
(See "In Contact," pp. 6-7, October 2008, and S. F. Davis Jr., pp. 26-33, August 2008 Naval History)
Captain Victor Delano, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Since my ship in World War II was privileged to have the first operational SG radar, which also had the first Plan Position Indicator that we had ever seen, the discussion about the radar sparked this memory:
After my ship was sunk at Pearl Harbor, and while still an ensign, I was ordered to the light antiaircraft cruiser San Juan (CL-54), which was still building in Quincy, Massachusetts. Simply because I knew what a radar was, the captain named me the ship's radar officer. One day as I was about to go ashore shortly after we were commissioned, I was unexpectedly and rather mysteriously ordered to remain on board. In due time I was told that I had to stay aboard because a special radar was being delivered that night.
Well after dark, a large crew of workmen arrived, and SG serial No. 1 was installed. The manuals were immediately locked up so nothing much was known about the new device.
The next day, again well after dark, more workmen arrived, removed every bit of SG serial No. 1 and replaced it with SG serial No. 2. All hands were instructed not to discuss what had taken place.
Some time later we discovered that Admiral Ernest J. King, after learning that his flagship was getting SG No. 2, ordered No. 1 to be removed immediately from the San Juan and placed on his flagship, the cruiser Augusta (CA-31), on board which President Franklin D. Roosevelt might cruise. So the San Juan got No. 2.
Rank Has Its Privileges really worked, and quickly, in those days.
For a long time during the Guadalcanal campaign the San Juan was one of only two ships with an SG. It was pathetically even longer before senior officers fully appreciated and capitalized on its value.
Book Review: Hell's Islands: The Untold Story of Guadalcanal'
(See M. L. Bartlett, pp. 69-70, December 2008 Naval History)
Stanley Coleman Jersey
Oscar Wilde once remarked that there was no use in writing a book if you didn't irritate someone. That comment obviously applies to book reviews as well.
To judge from his review of my book, Lieutenant Colonel Bartlett gave the book only a cursory inspection. Bartlett cited several books about the war in the Solomon Islands and asked why another was necessary. The answer is that my book covers what other histories have not, and it includes more information on the Japanese involvement in the land campaign than all the cited books combined. For example, in his excellent work, Guadalcanal (Random House, 1990), Richard B. Frank neglected to mention that 5,000 U.S. Navy personnel took part in the land campaign—namely, the 6th, 14th, 26th, and 27th Naval Construction Battalions. I included them.
The reviewer criticizes me for taking four chapters to get to the start of the Guadalcanal campaign. Those chapters lead up to the main story; they give the reader an idea of what life in the Solomon Islands was like before the Japanese invaded the islands and how the civilian populace and the skeleton military defense forces reacted to that event. That information is not available anywhere else.
Bartlett seems to think I was troubled about the naval enlisted ranks. They all were taken from the fifth edition of the Glossary of U.S. Naval Abbreviations, published by the Government Printing Office for the Chief of Naval Operations in April 1949. The Japanese naval ratings were furnished by Yoshi Sagai, a former sailor in the Imperial Japanese Navy.
In an effort to find something else to complain about, the reviewer asserts that Japanese names should be written with the family name first, followed by the given name. The preface to my book, however, clearly states, "Japanese names are presented in western style
given name first, followed by the family name." This is the same style used in Richard Frank's book.Similarly, Bartlett complains about naval terminology—"artillery is organized into batteries, not companies." In the appendix, Japanese artillery units are listed as companies, battalions, and regiments. That list was compiled by Captain Akio Tani (better known to American veterans as Pistol Pete), who commanded the 2nd Company, 7th Heavy Field Artillery Regiment, during the Guadalcanal campaign. If anyone knew about Japanese artillery units and their organization, it was Tani.
Bartlett states that "the Japanese also called Guadalcanal 'Starvation Island.'
Ga,' the first syllable of Gadarukanaru—their name for Guadalcanal—means hunger." The latter statement, however, is incorrect. There are many Kanji characters pronounced as "Ga," but only a few can be used with only one character as a word. They include "my," "moth," and "greetings." The Kanji character meaning "starvation" is not used with one character. It is used with a combination of other Kanji characters, as in Kiga ("starvation") and Gahi ("to die of hunger").Raphael Semmes' Long Flight Home'
(See J. A. Rodgaard, pp. 30-35, February 2009 Naval History)
Thomas K. Tate
This article revealed a fact to me that connects both the great-grandfather and great-grandson. Both served on board a ship named the Somers, which honored Lieutenant Richard Somers, who was killed in 1804 on board the fire ship Intrepid when she blew up prematurely in Tripoli Harbor.
The Somers (DD-381) on which the younger Semmes served was the first of a class of 1,850-ton destroyers. She was built in Kearny, New Jersey, and commissioned in 1937. The destroyer had an active and commendable record during World War II, serving in the Atlantic and Mediterranean. Decommissioned in October 1945, she was sold for scrap in May 1947.
The elder Semmes was in command of another Somers when she capsized in a gale in 1846 while on blockade duty off the coast of Vera Cruz during the Mexican War. He wrote about the sinking in his Memoirs of Service Afloat (1869; Kessinger Publishing, 2008).
His was the same Somers, which four years earlier under the command of Alexander Slidell Mackenzie, gained infamy as the site of the first mutiny in the U.S. Navy. Midshipman Philip Spencer, son of the then
Secretary of War, was accused of inspiring a mutiny, and along with two others, was hanged on board. A fine account of this dark episode is contained in The United States Navy, 200 Years (Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1986) written by the late retired Navy Captain Edward L. Beach Jr.Battling the Pacific's Most Deadly Force'
(See "In Contact," p. 7, February 2009, and T. Webb, pp. 16-25, October 2008 Naval History)
Robert W. Olson
I am a plank owner of the USS Monterey (CVL-26) and had the privilege of serving many deck watches with Lieutenant Gerald R. Ford. My memories of this rela tionship are that the enlisted personnel all regarded Lieutenant Ford as a straight arrow.
We were a very lucky ship. We took part in 11 major conflicts and never lost a member of the crew to enemy action. We did, however, lose three crew members in "Halsey's Typhoon."
A Dozen Navy Classics'
(See T. Cutler, pp. 42-47, December 2008 Naval History)
Gordon Albrecht
I've read all but one of the books cited, and Lieutenant Commander Cutler was correct in stating that everyone has their own personal favorite. Mine is Kenneth Dodson's novel Away All Boats (Little Brown, 1954; Naval Institute Press, 1996), from which a 1956 movie starring Jeff Chandler was made. I first read the Bantam paperback version of the book as a high school freshman in 1956. It cost me all of 35 cents.
Correction
The photograph accompanying "Battling the Pacific's Most Deadly Force" ("In Contact," p. 6, February 2009 Naval History) is of the USS Langley (CVL-27).